


The Summer Shows

by basilique



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Beach Romance, Beach Town, Best Friends in Love, Carnival, Costumes, Dark!Viktor, Eros Katsuki Yuuri, Exhibitionism, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Gangs, Lust, M/M, POV Katsuki Yuuri, Pole Dancing, Repressed Feelings, Stripper Katsuki Yuuri, Transgender Phichit, Warnings May Change, this may possibly get super dark I am not sure yet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 13:13:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14165586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basilique/pseuds/basilique
Summary: Exotic dancer Katsuki Yuuri is falling hard, both in love and lust, for his best friend Phichit, and making out with him for the summer tourists isn't helping matters.Meanwhile, the powerful gang lord Viktor Nikiforov has set his sights on Yuuri, and isn't about to let him go.





	The Summer Shows

The sun is going down, and the beach-side carnival is lighting up.

Neon lights click on; along the edges of the docks, up the side of the Ferris wheel, around the orbit of the tilt-a-whirl.

Yuuri waits for his cue, crouched hidden in the darkness under a dock. He smells, as the scent of salt and brine is overpowered by the aroma of fried dough and french fries sizzling up the beach. He listens, as the gentle sound of the waves lapping against the poles of the dock is replaced by the swell of carnival music. He watches, as the twinkle of the July stars in the red sky over Havenport surrenders to the glare of the neon lights.

It’s time to make these tourists throw their money.

Yuuri is in full makeup, with long fake eyelashes studded with rhinestones, a headdress of glass jewels and peacock feathers, and an enormous iridescent peacock fan stuck to his ass.

“Ladies and Gentlemen!” Yakov’s voice booms out over the beach. He is seated in the lifeguard’s tower, rigged up in a nest of soundboards and microphones. Minami scrambles around him, adjusting dials. “You could have been at home in your own bed tonight like a good girl or boy. You could have been reading your children a story, or putting in those extra hours at work to please your boss. But instead, you’re here with us for Volcano Sunday Weekend!”

A cheer goes up from the crowded beach. Yakov waits for it to pass before he booms on, “Yes, you’ve been a very naughty boy or girl! But don’t worry, the hangovers will be punishment enough!” There is laughter from the crowds, and Yakov continues “This weekend, indulge yourself in all your vices. You’ve earned it. Let us be your enablers. We want to show you all how we live here in Havenport!”

There is another raucous cheer, and Yuuri creeps out from under the dock and prepares himself for the glare of the spotlight. His stands on the beach in the darkness, his cue moments away. He lifts his arms in a V, palms up, and plasters a huge smile on his face.

Yakov drops his tone to a more conversational one, with the air of someone downplaying a great surprise. "We have a lot of rich traditions here in town. And I can think of a few that you will not want to miss. For example, you'll want to make sure to catch a cockfight while you're here. In fact--" he pauses dramatically as Minami pretends to whisper something into his ear. "It seems we have a couple of fighting cocks right here on the beach with us, aching for a fight. What do you say, shall we let them have at each other?!"

There is an enthusiastic, though somewhat-confused cheer. And a blinding blue spotlight swivels onto Yuuri.

A hundred yards down the beach, a red spotlight swivels onto Phichit, who stands with his own arms raised. He wears a flared Malaysian-style headdress and a huge red ruff of feathers around his shoulders. Golden chains drape over his torso and off of his tiny red thong.

There are thrilled and scandalized gasps, and a few tentative whistles of delight. The crowd is casting aside the inhibitions of their ordinary world. They do not quite dare enjoy this as much as they want to; the two bejeweled and nearly-naked men charging at each other across the beach.

But after tonight, they will have abandoned their principles and inhibitions and lost their minds, Yuuri knows.

Volcano Sunday has that effect on people.

Yellow spotlights swivel onto two slender silver poles set up in the sand, sheltered by a pavilion. 

Yuuri and Phichit run for the poles, careful to reach them at the same time, and launch their bodies at them in unison. 

The carnival music tapers into electronic dance music as they begin to swing their bodies around the poles, and the crowd lets out whoops of excitement and delight. 

Using their momentum, they launch themselves through the air to switch poles, pretending to slash and claw at each other as they pass in the air. 

Yuuri catches Phichit’s pole and flips himself around on it. He drops, in a graceful arc, to the sand, and crouches, his hands raised like talons, his expression proud and disdainful like a peacock’s. 

There are wolf whistles from the crowd as the two of them begin to circle each other, their bodies crouched low to the sand. 

Phichit gives Yuuri a small nod, imperceptible to the audience but a signal to Yuuri. And Yuuri lunges low and rolls, slashing at Phichit’s ankles, while Phichit kicks himself up into the air. One foot comes down to rest for just a moment on the small of Yuuri’s back as Phichit flips himself off of Yuuri’s body. 

They both leap, as though startled by one another’s ferocity, and haul themselves hand-over-hand up the two poles. 

This dance is more of a display of arm strength than anything else: they are both excellent dancers, and Minako is an excellent choreographer, but there is only so much that you can do on a pole while wearing a headdress and a fan of tail feathers. This display of aggressive masculinity is also a way of warming the crowd up; getting them loose and engaged for the next part of this act, which Yuuri knows that they will find…very shocking. 

Minako’s hope is that if these tourists are scandalized and titillated enough on this Friday night of Volcano Sunday weekend, then they will feel more eager to lose their inhibitions and indulge their most expensive whims on Saturday and Sunday. 

Phichit and Yuuri both hang from the top of their poles for a moment, letting the crowd’s anticipation build. 

The crowd is pressing forward, circling more tightly around the pavilion. The people in the back, who can no longer see, are craning their necks. 

One man, already drunk and with a loud voice, is yelling excitedly, “ _Get him, birdy. Come on! Wreck him! Come onnnn_!” 

Phichit swings back and forth a few times, and when Yuuri nods, Phichit leaps for Yuuri’s pole. Yuuri drops like a fireman, stopping himself abruptly where Phichit hangs, and the two of them spin around each other on the pole, making gestures as though to grab for each other. They spin down to the bottom of the pole, and Yuuri stretches out a leg to “kick” Phichit backwards onto the sand. 

Yuuri stands up, swings around the pole prettily, and rests his foot on Phichit’s heaving chest. 

He raises his arms in a V of victory, and the crowd begins to cheer and holler. 

But the red rooster will not accept the blue peacock’s defeat, and Phichit thrusts Yuuri’s foot disdainfully from his chest. He hoists himself to his feet using the pole, hand over hand, his gaze on Yuuri furious and heated. 

Then his left hand slides up to grip the pole above them, and his right arm wraps around Yuuri’s waist to pull their bodies together. And before the audience knows what is happening, they are kissing, their bodies entwined around the pole. 

There is a moment of stunned silence in the crowd surrounding the pavilion. Then several men exclaim in shock and several women shriek in delight. 

Yuuri pulls away from the kiss and spins Phichit around. He pulls Phichit’s hands behind his back around the pole. Then he stands behind Phichit, and runs his hands down over Phichit’s exposed torso. 

Phichit lets his head roll back against the pole, his face turned toward Yuuri’s, and Yuuri brushes his lips against his neck from behind. He wraps one hand around Phichit’s throat and runs the other down over Phichit’s ribcage. He goes gently over Phichit's scars; the lines under his pectorals where his breasts were removed when he was eighteen. Phichit had stripped naked and shown Yuuri his whole body when all the surgeries were finally finished. Yuuri thinks, oddly, about that moment now. 

Now, with Phichit backed up against the pole in front of him. Yuuri runs his hand down Phichit's stomach; over his bellybutton; claws down the front of his golden-chained thigh. 

Women are _screaming_ now, and Yuuri can’t deny that this is a little fun. He and Phichit are perfectly in sync; they grew up dancing together, two talented Hornets who long knew they could serve the gang best as strippers. And they are of one mind in this moment: let’s make this hot as Hell. _Let’s devastate these straight people._

Phichit shoves Yuuri back onto the ground and pins his wrists in the sand. Yuuri arches as though straining against the hold and Phichit kisses down Yuuri’s exposed throat. 

Yuuri raises his hips and flips them over, crawls on top of Phichit. But then Phichit flips him again. And they roll through the sand, warring for dominance while the crowd hoots and hollers. 

They finally stop with Yuuri on top, and they cradle each other’s heads, fingers tugging sand through each other’s hair as they kiss with mouths open. 

It feels _good_ to kiss Phichit; too good. Yuuri has noticed it before. 

He doesn’t like the fact that Phichit’s fingers tugging the back of his hair make him shudder. Or that Phichit’s tongue in his mouth makes him want to moan. 

He hopes desperately that Phichit can’t feel the very genuine erection pressed against his thigh. 

_Get it together, Yuuri! It's just Phichit! And you know you can't think like this._

Yuuri peeks under his armpit at the crowd for a moment. His brain is clouded by heat, but he still has the presence of mind to worry... 

Could any of Viktor Nikiforov's henchman be here? 

If Viktor catches the slightest hint that Yuuri was enjoying this more than he should be... 

But everyone around Yuuri is wearing a carnival mask. There's no way of telling if any of them are Viktor's people. 

Phichit pinches Yuuri on the hip; the cue, and Yuuri comes back to the dance and the guilty arousal it is bringing him. He flips Phichit’s body over and pins him down, his palm between Phichit’s sweaty shoulder blades. 

He arches his body up, and then planks down on top of Phichit, pressing his hips against Phichit’s ass in a theatrical simulation of sex, and the spotlights on them click out. 

“Myyy goodness!” booms Yakov’s voice over the beach. “I think we’d better give those two cocks some privacy!” 

The crowd yells and cheers, scandalized and delighted, and a moment later the spotlight clicks onto Mila, waiting in her green carnival feathers and stiletto heels at a pole erected on one of the docks. The music changes to a pop song. And as a fresh cheer rises for this new dancer, Yuuri rolls off of Phichit, and the two of them breathe hard, lying side by side on the sand.

**Author's Note:**

> For readers of my fics "Welcome to the Madness" and "Volcano Sunday": This is an alternative story line to the Phichuuri subplot. There is no infidelity in this version: Yuuri is single. =D
> 
> For readers interested in the whole series, (full cast story of gang wars in a beach town, with the main pairings being Otabek/Yuri and Yuuri/Viktor), it's here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11039316/chapters/24606993. Mind the tags, as there are some content warnings! =D


End file.
